


Before You Go

by theflowerchildandthepunk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Auror Harry Potter, Blind Harry, Blow Jobs, Fluff and Angst, Healer Draco Malfoy, Healer Hermione Granger, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflowerchildandthepunk/pseuds/theflowerchildandthepunk
Summary: Draco is the only hope Harry has left to break the curse that's affecting his eyesight.Add just a dash of longing and a pinch of sexual tension, bake at "Drunk Love Confession" degrees, best served hot with a side of angst.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Ginny Weasley
Kudos: 31





	Before You Go

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely unedited, and I apologize for any mistakes that you stumble across.  
> This was actually supposed to be a funny story involving Luna and Harry in lingerie, and Draco being a poor confused idiot but that's definitely not what I ended up with, so ya know, enjoy I guess? 
> 
> Definitely don't own anything related to the Harry Potter franchise, this is just for fun!

Draco has seen, well, some _shit_ since he became a Healer. Wizards who wanted to “experiment” with objects so far up their arse they couldn’t even Vanish them, they had to rely on good old fashioned lube and praying that whatever was stuck up there didn’t hit them in the face when they tugged it out. Witches with infected nipple piercings that were charmed to never come off. He had even seen a couple fused together, her thighs to his hip bones with his cock still fully inside of her, by accidental magic gone wrong.

It’s not all bad, he usually only gets crazy cases like that during the full moon; apparently werewolves aren’t the only ones who do regrettable things during that time of the month. And today had been a relatively slow day, nothing more than a few broken limbs and stinging curses that had been cast a little forcefully, and it was almost time for his shift to end. He’s had worse days compared to this one. That is until Hermione propped herself on the corner of his desk and dropped a file in front of him, a look of fond exasperation on her face.

“I’m not a Mind Healer, love. Last time I tried to help you with one of your cases, the bloke tried to hold us hostage with a baby dragon and you got mad at me when I put him in a Body Bind. Ask your little weasel husband for his opinion,” Draco sneered, face breaking out into a smile when she rolled her eyes at him.

Ron hadn’t been the happiest when Hermione had dragged Draco home for tea three years ago, and Draco hadn’t been able to blame him. He had been a right shit as a teenager, poisoned by the hate his father had fed him from the cradle and nothing could erase the fact that he had made Hermione’s life a living hell at Hogwarts. But he had barged into her office her first day at the facility and downed the truth potion they gave to particularly difficult patients who refused to be honest about their injuries, words tumbling out of his mouth faster than his brain could keep up with. He had only meant to make their working relationship less awkward and apologize for the guilt that crushed him every time he looked at her, and ended up gaining one of the best friends a man could ever ask for. Ron had even come around to him eventually, as told by the fact that he made Draco’s favorite curry at least once a week and brought it to the hospital for Hermione and Draco to split.

“It’s not one of my cases, you walnut, although he tried really hard to get me to take it. I know a bit about the medical condition but not enough to be helpful, and he gave me permission to give you his file when I mentioned you would be the only one I trusted to handle it. You don’t have to take it, obviously, but any advice you could give would be helpful. Floo over when you’ve read it, Ron is making a roast and we can go over what you think needs to be done,” Hermione said primly, sliding off of his desk and dropping a kiss to the top of his head before exiting his office; heels clicking against the pristine white tile.

Draco let out a sigh and scrubbed his hands over his face before flicking a careless hand towards his office door, a faint buzzing type of energy filling the room when the door locked. He flipped open the file Hermione had put on his desk, hand already moving to his small notepad and quill he kept nearby for notes. He bolted out of his chair and Apparated before he could think better of it, file tucked close to his chest, and hoped that Ron wouldn’t send a curse flying his way when he popped up unexpectedly in the kitchen.

_________________

“You might have told me that the patient was Harry fucking Potter!” Draco shouted, slamming the file in his hand down onto the table and racing up to Hermione’s home office. He sent a hasty Steading charm over his shoulder when he bumped into Ron on the stairs and dropped unceremoniously onto the leather sofa Hermione kept pushed against the wall once he entered her office space.

It wasn’t that he was opposed to helping Potter out, he had long given up on the schoolboy rivalry they had so easily fallen into all those years ago, but the fluttering feeling he got in his stomach and the warmth that spread deep through his bones when thinking of the other man had never fully gone away.

“I didn’t want you to immediately rule out helping him,” Hermione said defensively, tossing her handbag and coat on the top of her desk. Draco grunted when she sat down on his chest, a comforting pressure that allowed his mind to settle. He wrapped one arm around her waist and toed his shoes off, letting them drop onto the floor while Hermione settled against the back of the sofa. They had ended up in this position so many times over the years that Ron didn’t even blink when he entered the room, just sat down on the armrest by Draco’s head and leaned over to kiss his wife on the cheek.

“He should actually be here in just a few minutes, so you can ask him whatever questions you need,” Ron supplied, slapping Draco on the cheek lightly when he just groaned. “Come on mate, he needs all the help he can get. It’s pretty bad.”

Draco heaved out a sigh and nuzzled into Hermione’s hand when she placed it on his cheek, drinking in the comfort that was wrapped around the three of them. He hadn’t expected to find this in life, not with his Dark Mark shriveled and faded on his forearm. The sign of a traitor had a way of stopping friendships before they even formed, but here he was with some semblance of a family that made him misty eyed if he thought about it for too long.

“I didn’t read much past his name,” Draco admitted, smiling softly to himself when Hermione rolled her eyes so hard into the back of her head he thought for a second that they might get stuck.

Ron sat up straight and then hauled himself off of the sofa, making his way out of the room. Hermione let out a loud sigh but got up as well, holding her hand out for Draco to grab onto. He stopped himself from falling on the floor when she tugged on his arm just in time, using the speed he still possessed from his Seeker days.

“That’ll be Harry, then. Long story short: he was on a mission gone wrong. He got hit with _old_ magic, we can’t find a single record on how to reverse what happened to him. The wizard who hit him won’t say what spell he used,” Hermione whispered, dragging him out of her office to stand at the top of the stairs.

Draco could see Potter now, embracing Ron with his nose shoved against his friend's neck. It was like someone had sucked all the air out of the house when Ron finally let Potter go and he turned, giving Draco the perfect view of his face.

His hair was longer now, brushing the collar of his coat, and so messy that Draco itched to race down the stairs and shove his fingers through the black strands. The same stubborn jaw he had stared at in Potions class was covered in stubble, making him look more casual than Draco had ever seen him. The same stupid mouth and stupid scar that he had been fantasizing about since he was in fourth year.

And then he looked at his eyes, the same green eyes Draco tried to get away with describing when asked his favorite color, and realized something was wrong. A milky film completely covered Potter’s left eye and seemed to be crawling over his right, the barest sliver of green staring back at Draco.

_No wonder Ron said it was bad_ , Draco thought, _the Savior of The Wizarding World is going completely blind._


End file.
